Stargazing
by Sherlock Emrys
Summary: Owen's left standing on top of the monument in the Plass, fending off a Weevil, getting no help at all from that stupid dinosaur that's still flapping around, trying not to fall to his death. Just another day at work, then. Short oneshot for the prompt "Owen - Weevil - Staring Into Space". No warnings.


**I've been suffering from terrible author's block lately, so as a way to break it I've been writing a few little oneshots from the Random Pair/Plot generator, which has given me some... interesting prompts XD This is a standard oneshot with no warnings or spoilers. I may use this story as a dump for any more Torchwood oneshots I write. **

**I am almost certain I am misspelling Mfanwy. I have absolutely no idea how to do it right. Please let me know if you know because I've forgotten and I'm very bad at names like that which are... non=phonetic XD**

**EDIT: Fixed. It's Myfanwy, and thank you to the person who corrected me XD**

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**VERSE: Torchwood S1-2**

**PROMPT: Owen Harper / Weevil / Staring into Space**

**CHARACTERS: Owen, the team (by phone), a weevil, Mfanwy**

**RATING: K**

Being part of Torchwood had many perks. There was the _amazing_ coffee, the licence to carry firearms, the fact that it was impossible to be bored, the secret underground base, the pteranodon… although, come to think of it, that was less of a perk than a problem. It had taken to eating the team's take-out food and at the end of a 36 hour shift when you were running on caffeine, adrenaline and whatever weird stuff was in that energy pill Jack handed out, the last thing you needed was a bloody dinosaur stealing your chips.

But one of the _other_ perks was the incredible technology you had access too. It was literally centuries ahead of the competition, and made their lives a whole lot easier.

So why, oh why, was the telescope- of course they had a telescope, why _wouldn't_ they? No, scratch that, there were a lot of reasons why not, but that hadn't stopped Jack- on the _roof_?

Not even on the roof of the Hub. No, it was situated right on top of the huge monument in the centre of the Plass that just happened to be over their "top secret" building. Apparently, that meant that nobody was likely to interfere with it.

Which was all very well. But for all their advanced technology and computer science, they still needed somebody to _be up there looking through the telescope_.

Why this couldn't be done remotely, he wasn't sure. He suspected it was because everyone was annoyed at him after the alien he'd been dissecting exploded in everyone's faces, covering them all in indelible pink goo which stained their faces and clothes for months, and he had been looking the other way and got off with a few splats on the back of his hands and head, which you could barely see anyway.

So Owen Harper, Torchwood's one and only medical officer, was currently sitting on top of an artificial waterfall in Wales, freezing to death, staring at a patch of sky which apparently needed 24 hour monitoring for the next two days because there was a distinct possibility of an alien battle fleet appearing, with a bloody _dinosaur_ screeching at him. Apparently, he had taken her perching spot or something.

With a sigh, he took another dutiful look through the telescope. Still nothing. Unless you counted the black blur that repeatedly obscured his vision every few moments, but he was pretty sure that that was just Myfanwy.

He picked up his mobile and with frozen fingers, quickly tapped out a text. _All normal. Can I come down yet?_

Moments later, it beeped and he checked the reply.

_Good. No._

Dammit.

He took another glance through the telescope. The iridescent beauty of the distant stars was totally lost on Owen, who was mainly thinking about ways he'd like to kill Jack- and the beauty of it was, he could try all of them and still be able to murder him again.

The blur blocked his scope again.

'Get out the way,' he muttered, flapping with his free hand, eyes still trained on the scope.

The blur didn't move.

'Dammit, you stupid dinosaur, move before I make you into pteranodon steak!' he snapped.

When his telescope remained blocked, he grudgingly sat back and raised his eyes from the lens.

'Oh, _f-'_

Owen never finished his sentence, because the Weevil that was perched on the end of the telescope pounced and he ducked out of the way, nearly falling to the Plass.

As he wrestled with the angry creature, trying to keep his balance whilst Myfanwy continued to swoop around cawing and being _no help at all_, he contemplated the fact that this was an ordinary day at work for him. Working for Torchwood was _not_ worth the perks.


End file.
